Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of Joss Whedon, Warner Brothers, UPN and The Fox Network . This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Author's Notes: An Angel/Buffy crossover fic inspired by a similar event in real life.
23 years, 2 months and 4 days.
8,459 days.
203,016 hours.
12,180,960 minutes.
730,857,600 seconds.
They're just numbers, but they're numbers that are the sum total of her life.
That's how long she lived.
23 years, 2 months and 4 days.
There was nothing anyone of us could have done. Not me, not Giles, not Willow, nobody.
She wasn't killed in battle, helping to stop another demon hell bent on ending the earth; a vampire didn't kill her. She wasn't even killed by some psychotic human who thought it would be a good idea to drink and then go for a drive.
No.
She went to bed one night and didn't get up the next morning.
That was it. No big finish, no mystical forces at work.
She just didn't wake up.
It took two post-mortems before they finally realised she'd died of a viral infection in her heart. Apparently it affects less then one tenth of one per cent of the population.
1 in 100,000 people.
She was 1 in 100,000.
She saved the world countless times, sent me to hell, gave the powers of a slayer to all the potentials around the world and defeated the first evil while the world crumbled around her. Literally.
She finally got the normal life she always wanted and that's when she dies.
It's laughable really.
Except it's not.
It's not right and it's not fair.
Already I have lived the length of her life more then ten times over. And during all that time I had never felt before like I did when I was around her.
Giles looked old at the funeral. A lot older then I'd ever seen before. He was worn and tired, frail almost. Maybe the number of losses has finally caught up with him, though he remained silent and stoic like most of us there.
At least Wesley had Fred with him, loving him, supporting him. I'm happy for them.
Really I am. It's about time one of us got a bit of happiness.
Although it did seem a little out of place.
Faith stayed near the back reeking of pain and guilt. I slowly glanced over my shoulder at her and she met and held my gaze. I think in a strange way she loved
Buffy almost as much as I did.
Dawn was…devastated, distraught, angry as hell and stuck to Spike like a limpet.
She always did seem to like him better. I never understood why.
She must take after her mother.
The cemetery was pretty quiet except for the harsh wind that whipped around the headstones causing people to shiver in their long warm coats; the odd sobs, and sniffles coming from the crowd gathered at the graveside. Mainly from Dawn and Willow.
Willow couldn't seem to stop the tears as she stood between the two people she seemed to love most in the world, Xander and Kennedy.
Looking around there were so many missing faces and so many new ones. Giles, Willow and Xander are the only original Scoobies left now.
It's hard to believe any of this.
I never thought it would end like this.
I thought it would be louder, brighter, that she'd go in a blaze of glory with me by her side.
I don't know why. She wouldn't let me help her in Sunnydale but I always thought…
I was waiting for her.
I loved Cordelia.
When I thought I couldn't care about anyone like that anymore, she made me realise I could. She gave me hope, for myself and I wonder if she ever realised that.
I loved her but Buffy and I … we seemed inevitable. I was so sure the time would come when her 'cookies' would be baked and we'd be together. It wouldn't be easy but we'd work through it because she was Buffy and I was Angel and together we could do almost anything.
I couldn't have been any more wrong.
I lost Cordelia and now I've lost Buffy.
Is there anybody else I love that you want to take? Or is the pain I'm in now enough for the moment?
23 years, 2 months and 4 days.
Longer then most of the slayers before her, but still not long enough.
I guess I should be used to this.
To her dying.
But I'm not. It always hurts, and this time it hurts more then ever because this time I know she won't be coming back.
There'll be no resurrection spells, no miraculous magicks to bring her back.
She's gone.
For good.
Maybe that's just the way the cookie crumbles.
She always wanted to be normal, but she never could be. She was too extraordinary to be ordinary.
Too exciting and energetic to have the mundane, boring everyday lives most 'normal' people have.
The most normal thing about her life was her death.
She was 1 in 100,000. In every way possible.
Finis